The Real Reason
by Hieiko
Summary: Why does The Immortal keep messing with Angel and Spike's unlives?


Author: Hieiko 

Author's Notes: I've still got some steam coming out of my ears because of "The Girl in Question" (and that's weird because I haven't seen it yet, but only read the transcript). For some entirely unfathomable reason, this absurd idea just popped into my head and I couldn't get rid of it. Honestly, when I thought about it, my reaction was, "Ewww." But I wrote about it, nevertheless. 

Disclaimers: I don't own Angel the Series, or any of the characters in this show. I only write about them. 

Distribution: If you want this, go ahead. Just email me and tell me where it's at. Thanks. 

Warning: Spoilers for "The Girl in Question". Slash implied. 

Feedback: Would love that, pet. 

Summary: Why does The Immortal keep messing with Angel and Spike's unlives?   
  
**The Real Reason**

He was Krevlornswath of the Deathwok clan of Pylea. He was not afraid. Not even of two Master vampires who had once cut a bloody swath through Europe. Nope, not afraid at all. 

Who the hell was he kidding? Lorne was terrified. 

He paced outside the door to Angel's office, where he could still hear the unsynchronized voices of Angel and Spike in a drunken duet. This was bad. They were both drunk, and obviously bonding over their misery regarding the blond Slayer by the name of Buffy Summers. And if those two could set aside their differences in order to work together for Buffy's sake, they could also team up to slaughter him after he told them his news. But they were too drunk to try to kill him, weren't they? Or were they so drunk that they would completely ignore their souls and just go ahead and bathe in his blood? 

Still, Lorne knew he had to tell them. So, he gathered his courage and walked into the office. 

Spike and Angel were slouched side by side on the black couch. Angel held a glass in his right hand. Spike was holding the bottle of Scotch in his left hand. They were still singing, oblivious to Lorne's presence. 

Briefly, Lorne wondered why Angel's singing sounded better when he was drunk, while Spike sounded better while sober. He shook off that thought and returned to the matter at hand. He coughed and cleared his throat. 

Both souled vampires looked up at him, and grinned. 

"Hey, Lorne! Want a drink, mate?" Spike asked, waving the bottle in his hand. 

"Yeah, why don't you join us?" Angel slurred. 

"Er, no thanks. I just have something to tell you and then I'm off," Lorne replied, not quite sure how to deal with them. 

"Good news, I hope?" Angel said. "Had enough of bad news..." 

Lorne coughed again. "Ah well, I'm not sure." 

"Whatever it is, just get on with it!" Spike said impatiently, taking another swig of alcohol. 

"See, it's about this person known as The Immortal..." Lorne began. 

Spike spat out his drink. Angel scowled. Their eyes flashed gold and they growled simultaneously. "What?!" 

"Now, now, boys... No need to get worked up. It's just that I heard about your recent little jaunt to Italy, and I remembered someone called The Immortal that I heard singing a few months ago..." 

By the time Lorne finished his anecdote, Spike and Angel were both staring at him with eyes wide and mouths open. They turned to each other with identical expressions of horror. Then they leaned over opposite sides of the couch and promptly threw up. 

Lorne wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Maybe I should have waited 'til you were sober." 

The next morning, Angel sat at his desk with a groan. He leaned his forehead against the hardwood. "This is all your fault, Spike." 

"My fault?" Spike repeated. "I wasn't the one keeping all this liquor in his office." He sat on the couch, propped his elbows on his knees and pressed his palms over his eyes. 

Harmony walked in. "You two both look like crap! I'll never understand what it is you two see in that Slayer...Ugh." 

Neither souled vampire even looked up. Until she placed mugs of coffee and blood in front of them, that is. Angel accepted the mug and drank silently. Spike was a bit surprised, however. 

"Thanks, Harm," he muttered. 

Harmony smiled. "Oh boy, that must be some hangover if you're actually thanking me. But, you're welcome, anyway, Blondie Bear." 

Spike gave her a dirty look. She didn't notice. 

"I mean, you two were totally trashed last night." 

Angel suddenly remembered something. "Harmony, did Lorne come here last night?" 

"Uh, yeah. Why?" 

"Nothing. Never mind," Angel said, glancing at Spike. 

Harmony looked from one to the other. "What is it? Is it about what Lorne told you?" 

"What do you mean?" Spike frowned. 

"Oh God, I was hoping it was just a nightmare." Angel groaned. 

Harmony was confused. "What was so bad about it? Aren't guys supposed to be feeling all macho when they hear that someone has a thing for them?" 

Angel cringed. He wished he were as lucky as his grandchilde. Obviously Spike didn't recall anything, as he looked on in bewilderment. 

"Huh? What are you on about, Harm?" 

"You know. You guys having some sort of admirer who was too afraid to admit their true feelings. Who was it Lorne said?" She tapped her cheek as she tried to remember. "Oh, right... The Immortal," she said, before walking out. 

Spike's jaw dropped. The hazy memories of last night suddenly came back. 

"Angel, tell me you've got some whiskey left, mate."

The older vampire tossed him a bottle. "I've got more where that came from."  
  
_end_


End file.
